


Origami

by SylviaS



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Coma, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-04
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 15:53:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylviaS/pseuds/SylviaS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron makes 1000 paper cranes while Harry lies in a coma. AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Origami

"Origami"

Summary: Ron makes 1000 paper cranes while Harry lies in a coma. AU

Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling, I did not write Harry Potter.

Warning: This is slash if it offends anyone, then you need to learn to broaden your horizons. There are many types of love and it is ignorant to say that only one type is morally right.

Author's Note: This story mentions the myth that if you make a thousand paper cranes then you get one wish.

By the time Ron starts making paper cranes Harry has already been in a coma for six weeks. Initially when Hermione starts talking about the merits of origami Ron thinks it's the stupidest thing he's ever heard. "Honestly why not just take a piece of paper and transfigure it into a flock of birds." That statement had earned him an "affectionate" smack on the head. If Ron had asked her she might have told him that the people who made the origami were most likely muggles and that the wish from the story of a thousand paper cranes was probably a metaphor. A metaphor for knowing what you want, and not being afraid to go after it. If he would have asked her, she would have told him that at least in her own experiences anything worth having never comes easily. But Ron did not ask her for her opinion and that's probably why he was on a seemingly endless task of creating his paper cranes.

After living in the wizarding world his whole life, Ron was slowly becoming dissatisfied with magic. Ron often thought that any half wit with a wand and the knowledge of the right words could do magic. But wishes, Ron thought, were another thing all together. While in some ways Ron was thicker then Hermione's curly brown hair he understood the subtleties of the language of wishes. Ron knows that wishes and desire are inexplicably linked. Sometimes the desire for something to happen makes it happen. True magic can only exist if you want it to. You can't heal or save someone who on some level doesn't want to be saved. This is why though there was nothing physically wrong with Harry's body he still had not awaken, simply because he did not wish to.

It took Ron five days to make his first successful crane. Days soon turned to weeks turned to months as time tends to do. Every day Ron would go to the infirmary and sit and fold until his fingers grew numb. If it was just paper, Ron often wondered, then why were his fingers so raw and why did they bleed so much? During this time Ron would talk until he thought his throat might close. Ron had never experienced this sensation himself but he had witnessed it last fall when a muggle born sixth year student,Ali had accidentally eaten peanut butter. Ron thought it looked extremely painful, which is why it was so unusual that he enjoyed talking this much. But he found it rather therapeutic. Ron talked about everything; the weather, the war, Hermione, his family, quiddich, and sometimes if he was feeling particularly brave he would talk about things that no sane guy would ever mention to his best friend (unless he was drunk or unconscious). In these instances Ron talked about his secrets; his wishes, his wants, his desires, his fears, and his over all love for Harry. Only while sitting alone folding paper cranes and talking to his unconscious best friend could he admit who he trulywas.

"Sometimes I hate Hermione, if it wasn't for her I wouldn't have to share you with anyone. It could just be a world alone with you and me; no one else would ever have to matter. If it wasn't for her I would have never lied to you. Do you remember that day when we were sitting by the lake and you asked if I loved her. I wanted to say so much that while I did love her I couldn't love her the way everyone wanted me to love her. I should have said that I couldn't love her or anyone for that matter the way that I love you. But like a fool, knowing that I would hate myself forever for not telling the truth, all I did was stutter out a yes that I did love her. That was the first time I had ever lied to you and I have never lied to you since. But why is it that out of all of the lies I've told throughout the course of my life this is the one that haunts my dreams. And I wonder if we lie to protect ourselves then why do we only end up hurting ourselves more in the end?"

"Sometimes I feel so exhausted by everyone's expectations of me. I'm supposed to marry Hermione and father a hundred screaming babies, and maybe follow in my father's footsteps and get a 'glamorous' job at the Ministry. But I don't want that life. I just want to be. I want to exist in the narrative that I have written for myself. Why is it that I feel most like myself whenever I'm with you, even if you're not awake?"

"It wasn't any one moment that made me fall in love with you. It was a collection of moments, of feelings over the years until one day it just was. It could have been the way your hair falls in your face, how beautifully you fly when you think no one is watching, the way you suck at Wizards chess but you still play with me any way because you know how happy it makes me. It could have been how you bite your nails if your nervous or if you have just had a long day, or it could have been the first time that I saw you cry and I wanted to do something so completely out of character and actually open a book. I imagined how I would study the art of necromancy and after many years of practicing I would finally bring your parents back to life and you would finally know that I had always been the person who loved you the most. Or it could have been the way that you had always rescued me and how I was the one thing that you would miss the most. Perhaps it was the moment when I hugged youand I knew I never wanted to let you go and if only I knew some spell or potion that would tie you to me forever, so that I would never lose you to Voldemort or God forbid some girl."

"Do you know why I root for the Chuddley Cannons, when sometimes it seems so impossible that they could ever win? Being their fan I have known my share of joy and disappointment. But sometimes we need to hope for impossible things. Maybe my love for this team is like my love for you. Realistically how could we work, I'm the boy who wouldn't notice something if you hit me upside the head and apparently you're the boy who doesn't want to live. But don't you think that if we could just find a way to make it work how breathtakingly beautiful we would be."

It takes Ron five months, three days, and twelve hours to make a thousand paper cranes. He doesn't realize until after he's done that during all these months he never once thought of what he might wish for. But now Ron has to think about what he truly wants. He thinks of when he was little and all he wanted was to make a name for himself separate from his family. He doesn't want to be just another Weasley child. He thinks he could if he wanted to,wish to become a quiddich star. Then he would have everything he had always wanted; fame, fortune, and notoriety. And just maybe he could finally become worthy of Harry's love. Now if he can just bring himself to open his mouth and speak the words all of his wishes would come true. A few months ago this would have been all too easy; he would have made the wish without ever looking back. But over the months something in him had inexplicably changed. He had grown up. True happiness could not be found with fame and quiddich. And you can't force someone to love you even if you wish for it with everything that you are. Perhaps real magic wasn't the result of folding one thousand paper cranes. Perhaps true magic could be found in the love between two friends or maybe just by letting go of someone who obviously didn't want to be here anymore. Looking at Harry's sleeping form he knew what he had to, no what he wanted to do. And so it is after five months of folding paper, and confessing emotions, and cleansing his soul he makes his wish. "I wish you could be happy." He gets up from his chair, presses a gentle kiss to Harry's forehead, and walks out the door.

And as it happens every night after Ron leaves, a solitary tear slowly makes its way down Harry's face and finally falls to the floor.


End file.
